


Studio Musician

by zebraljb



Category: NSYNC
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-27 04:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JC is a studio musician, and Justin is the artist that comes in to record.  Based on the Barry Manilow song "Studio Musician."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

STUDIO MUSICIAN  
One

 _I’m a studio musician/We’ve never met/But you know me well/I am the English horn/Who plays the poignant counter-nine/Upon the songs you heard/While making love in some hotel/I am a part of you/I’ve never tried for fame/You’ll never know my name…_

 

“Up here.” Justin Timberlake giggled drunkenly as he pulled the other man up a flight of stairs. “Elevator’s broken.”

“You’d think the ritziest hotel in town wouldn’t have that problem,” the man muttered.

Justin unlocked the door and tumbled into the suite. “Home sweet home,” he said cheerfully. He plopped onto the sofa. “What’s your name again?”

“Tim,” the man replied, looking around. “Now THIS is what I’m talking about.”

“Just another hotel,” Justin shrugged. He unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock. He stroked it with one hand while he reached for the stereo remote with the other. A gentle love song soon poured through the speakers. “Why don’t you come over here, Tim?” Justin asked huskily.

“I can’t believe this,” Tim whispered. “You’re…you’re amazing. I see you on MTV, I own all your CDs…and now I get to fuck you.” He fell to his knees before Justin.

“Whoa, there, cowboy.” Justin held up a hand. “I’m not THAT drunk. You’re not gonna fuck me. You’re gonna blow me, and maybe I’ll blow you, but nothing fucks me but the music.” Justin leaned back and looked at Tim. “If you don’t like it, over there’s the door.”

“N-no…that’s fine.” Tim eagerly put his mouth over Justin’s cock. Justin moaned and closed his eyes, the blood rushing through his body in time with the music.

 

“Josh, we need you tomorrow. Kevin’s wife had her baby, and he won’t be in for a while.” Chris Kirkpatrick, the manager of the recording studio, sounded as if he considered the baby a personal insult.

“Sure. I have no life anyway.” Joshua Chasez picked up his briefcase. “What do you need?”

“Uh, sax. Bring your clarinet, too. Some sap who thinks he’s gonna reinvent the big band sound.” Chris dug through a pile of sheet music. “Here.”

“Um-hm. Looks easy enough.” Josh read the music quickly. Chris laughed.

“EVERYTHING looks easy to you, boy.” Josh played the saxophone, clarinet, piano, organ, guitar, and was able to manipulate the electronic keyboarding system as well. “You just enjoy it, because Wednesday will be hell. Timberlake’s coming in again.”

“JUSTIN Timberlake?” Josh asked, intrigued. They were a tiny recording studio in a big city. “Here?”

“Yeah. He laid some stuff down a few years back…says he “feels the music” here or some dumb shit like that.” Chris rolled his eyes. “He’s a pain in the ass. Everything he does is on the keyboard, so that will be easy for you. It’s just his attitude…such a fucking diva. He kicked out two pianists in two days, and he refuses to hand his music over in advance.”

“Sounds like a winner,” Josh agreed.

“Josh, I don’t know why you won’t let me put some of your stuff down on tape. Your voice is good, your songs are amazing, and you’re a LOT easier to work with than Timberlake.”

Josh laughed as he slid the music into his briefcase and snapped it shut. “Nah. Fame and fortune aren’t in the cards for me. I’m just happy making other people’s good songs sound better, and not so good songs sound good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Chris.” Josh strolled out of the studio, leaving Chris to shake his head.


	2. Chapter 2

STUDIO MUSICIAN  
Two

 

 _I am the strings that enter softly/Or three guitars that glitter gold/I am the thousand trumpet lines that were an afterthought...the way to get a dying record sold/I never ride the road/I never play around/I played what they set down..._

 

“Dammit, could you have parked farther away?” Justin griped. “I can barely see the damn place!”

“Sorry, boss. Mad traffic,” Justin’s driver said. “Want me to loop around again?”

“Nah. I’ll walk.” Justin shoved his sunglasses up and opened the door. “Be back at five.”

“See ya, boss.”

Justin strolled the two blocks to the studio, paying no attention to anyone he passed. He heard a few “Isn’t that...” remarks, but otherwise no one seemed to recognize him. He whipped off the sunglasses as he entered the studio. He went up to the desk and gave the secretary a charming smile. “Hi, there. Justin Timberlake? I have the studio reserved until five.”

“Yes, Mr. Timberlake.” The woman called someone on the phone.

“Justin.” Chris Kirkpatrick came hurrying down the hall. “How the hell are ya?”

“Okay.” Justin shook the hand that was outstretched. “How you doin’, man?”

“Good. Where’s the entourage?” Chris looked around the empty lobby.

“Going stag today,” Justin said. He shrugged. “My assistant will probably stop by later.”

“Okay.” Chris led the way back. “I’m trusting you with one of my best guys. His name is Josh, and he can play just about any instrument you give him.”

“Sounds good. I got some new kinds of stuff...different.” Justin poked his head into a studio.

“No, Justin. Down here. This is the best studio.” Chris led him to the studio at the end of the hall.

“Wait.” Justin stopped walking and tilted his head. “What’s that?”

“Oh...Josh mustn’t know he has the speakers on. He likes to fool around while he waits for the talent.”

“Shh.” Justin pushed the door open a crack. He saw the back of a dark head bent over a huge keyboard system. Sweet violins held a lilting melody while a few other instruments suddenly ran over them. “Do I know that song?”

“Nah...he writes his own stuff,” Chris said. “If you need me...you know where I am. Nice to have you back.”

“Thanks,” Justin said faintly, walking into the studio and closing the door. He watched the man at the keyboard. His back was to Justin, and all he could see was the back of his head and his hands. The hands were slender, weak looking, but they floated across the keys, occasionally flipping switches to create a different sound. He opened the door into the performance area and the music stopped.

The man turned around and blue eyes studied him. The man smiled, and Justin took a deep breath. He was beautiful. “Hi. You’re Justin Timberlake? Honored to meet you. Joshua Chasez.”

“Yeah. Um, hi,” Justin stumbled, then mentally shook himself. “I’m Justin.”

“Can I see your stuff?”

“What?” Justin whispered.

“Your songs. We only have four hours,” Josh reminded him gently.

“Oh, yeah.” Justin opened his duffel and handed Josh a notebook. Josh quickly scanned down through them.

“These are good.”

“What you were playing...you wrote that?”

“Yeah.” Josh sat down at the keyboard. “So, what are we looking for here? Start with the love songs first? They’re usually the hardest.”

“Why don’t you give that to someone to sing? Get some lyrics.”

Josh raised an eyebrow. “It has lyrics. I just didn’t sing them today. And I’m not here to get someone to record my stuff. I’m here to record yours.” He flexed his fingers. “Where should we begin?”


	3. Chapter 3

STUDIO MUSICIAN  
Three

 

 _I’m a working musician/Living from week to week/I’m the voice through which each empty man/Tries to speak..._

 

“Wanna try that one more time, or are you happy with that?” Josh asked. Justin stared at him blankly.

“What? Oh, no, it’s fine. This is all just to prove a point anyway.” Justin took off his headphones and wearily ran a hand through his curls.

“What do you mean?” Josh asked, leaning his chin in one hand.

“Well, the powers that be have decided that I have worn out my pop welcome,” Justin said. “They think I’m old news.”

“What?” Josh’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve released three albums. You can’t be more than what, twenty?”

“I was twenty-one in January,” Justin said with a small smile. “And I released my first CD when I was sixteen. They just think I’m done...and I want to prove that I’m not.”

“You’re not,” Josh promised. “I swear.”

“I wish you’d give me that song,” Justin said quietly, and Josh looked up at him.

“What?”

“The one that you were performing when I came in.”

“No.” Josh got up and looked at the clock. “We’re done. You don’t have to pay for the last half-hour.”

“Josh. Wait.” Justin put a hand on his arm. “Why not? I want to know if the lyrics were as good as the music.”

“Justin, I talk for the people who can’t. I play for people who have no clue about lyrics or music...they can just make a nice noise with their voice. You can already write and perform. You don’t need me.” Josh snapped his briefcase shut.

“I think I do,” Justin said softly. Josh stared at him.

“Chris told me you were a real diva. He told me you were selfish and rude and arrogant. I haven’t seen that Justin...but I bet he doesn’t need anyone.”

“Josh...” Justin sighed, noticing the stubborn look in Josh’s eyes. “So...where are you off to, now?”

“I gotta do some grocery shopping...then just bumming around.” Josh held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Would you...uh...would you like to have dinner with me?” Justin blurted out.

“I get paid by the hour, Justin. I don’t have the kind of money to eat where you eat. Thanks though.”

“No...I thought I could pay,” Justin said softly.

“Are you asking me out?” Josh asked.

“I...uh...”

“Look, Justin. I’m flattered. But you’re you...and I’m just a studio musician. Thanks again. And good luck with the song.” Josh left Justin standing in the studio.


	4. Chapter 4

STUDIO MUSICIAN  
Four

 

 _I’m a man of the moment/Pop is my stock n’ trade/Singles, jingles and demos conveniently made/A studio musician/Whose music will die unplayed/A studio musician/Whose music could have died unplayed…_

 

“Justin Timberlake called this morning,” Chris told Josh the next day when he entered the studio. Josh rolled his eyes.

“Oh, God, Chris, I’m sorry. I told him what you said about him being a diva, and he called you about it, didn’t he? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it, but he kinda freaked me out.”

“No, Josh, it wasn’t about that. Come into my office.” Chris led the way into his cluttered office. Josh sat down. “He wanted to know when your next day off was.”

“Tomorrow,” Josh said immediately.

“I told him that. He then asked for a way to contact you. I got suspicious, and told him just to call you here. I didn’t think it was right to give him your home number. Did everything go okay yesterday?”

“Yeah. It went great, actually. He’s a talented young man. He…uh…” Josh laughed nervously. “He actually wanted me to give him one of my songs. Can you believe it? Me…Justin Timberlake singing one of MY songs.”

“The one you were playing?” Chris asked, and Josh nodded. “Josh, that song kicks ass. Timberlake’s voice is PERFECT for it. Why didn’t you agree to work with him?”

“Chris, my job is to play the instruments, to fill in the background. I’m not supposed to be in front.”

“Joshua Chasez won’t be in front. Joshua Chasez’s songs WILL. Your songs shouldn’t just die unplayed.” Chris slapped the desk. “Josh, you’re a dumbass sometimes.” He looked at Josh carefully. “Unless there’s something else.” Josh blushed and looked everywhere but at Chris. “A-HA!” Chris said triumphantly. “Spill it or you’re fired, Chasez.”

“That’s low.”

“SPILL.”

“He…well…don’t breathe a word of this anywhere, Chris, or I swear to God, I’ll make you a few inches shorter by cutting off your feet.”

Chris blinked at the sudden violent outburst. “Uh, okay. I swear on…my collection of 80s records.”

“Okay.” Josh drew a ragged breath. “Ya know how I’m gay and all? Well, apparently Justin Timberlake is, too. He asked me out.”

“Justin Timberlake?” Chris pondered this for a moment. “Yeah, well, I can sort of see that. He asked you out?”

“For dinner. I said no.”

“You said NO?”

“Chris, it wouldn’t look right. Everyone would think I was just trying to get Justin to use my song.”

“I thought you’re not giving him your song.”

“I’m not. I…” Josh shook his head. “Quit confusing me.”

“I think you liked him.”

“No.”

“I think you did. I think you DO!” Chris laughed. “Joshy and Justin, sitting in a tree…”

“You are the most infantile person I know, Christopher!” Josh yelled, standing up. “I need to get to work.”

“You go ahead. I’ll send any bouquets or gifts of love down to Studio C,” Chris said, chuckling. Josh slammed the door behind himself, and Chris looked up. “I never said I didn’t give him your ADDRESS,” Chris mumbled to himself.

 

“The love inside that no one else can see, the love inside it’s saved for you and me…I can’t figure out what you did to create this love…inside…” Josh sang softly as he carried his laundry basket. He whistled some more, then hummed the melody. He turned the corner to his apartment building and was aware of footsteps behind him. He stopped and turned around.

“I knew the lyrics would be good,” Justin Timberlake said with a grin. Josh looked around.

“Um, what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. I’ve been walking around the block for an hour. My bodyguard’s having sixteen fits, but it’s good for him.” Justin nodded towards a sleek black car parked across the street. He bent down and picked up the basket. “Shall we?”

“How’d you figure out where I live?” Josh demanded.

“You’re not that hard to find. Thank the phone book.” Justin climbed the steps to Josh’s building. “Well?”

Josh sighed and unlocked the door. They climbed the three flights of stairs to Josh’s loft. “Excuse the mess,” Josh said, letting Justin into his immaculate apartment. Justin stared.

“If this is messy, I’m afraid to see clean,” Justin said. He put the basket down. “Look, Josh…if I came off any kind of arrogant or condescending to you, I didn’t mean to. You’re just…you’re like nothing I’ve ever seen. You are so incredibly talented, but you’re not into flaunting it. I’m not used to that anymore. Not to mention that you’re nice and smart and incredibly sexy.”

Josh blushed. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” Justin smiled. “If you don’t want me to use your song, I understand. But go out with me. I’m only in town for a few days. I think it could be fun.”

“I want you to use my song,” Josh whispered. Justin’s mouth fell open.

“What?”

“I want you to use my song,” Josh said in a louder voice. “Your voice would work well with it, and it would be good for you, I think. It will show those management assholes just how much of a has-been you’re not.”

“Josh…thank you,” Justin whispered. “Thanks so much. You realize, of course, that I’ll have to keep coming back here to work with you on it,” Justin said. “I’ll probably have to rent a place here in the city.”

“Then I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other,” Josh said with a slow grin.

“I guess we will.” Justin smiled his beautiful smile and Josh sighed.

“So…do I get my free dinner now?”

“You get anything you want,” Justin told him, and Josh smiled once more.

THE END


End file.
